"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
As promised, she leaves Gryffren behind and makes her way to the Valley with Everdeen and Gallows. It has been too long since she’s stretched her legs and actually made a kingdom visit. The perks of an active kingdom; she doesn’t have to. Of course, she’s so busy inside the kingdom that she barely has time for sleep, let alone recruiting or diplomatic missions. But this particular trip is important. The rest can wait.
She is content to walk in silence, though fills in conversation if they ask any questions or simply want to chat. She is not against being conversational, particularly not with other mares that know how to hold her own. Rather, she simply doesn’t require conversation.
The trip to the Valley is easy and short enough, and they arrive in no time. She is polite enough to follow their lead, only crossing the border if and when they invite her to do so. Not that she hasn’t walked into this kingdom like she belongs many times previously. She has. Quite often. But today she is being diplomatic, and so she behaves. Today, she is here to meet their new king, to decide if together, they can finally destroy Beqanna together. As they always should have.
09-25-2015, 07:21 PM (This post was last modified: 09-25-2015, 10:06 PM by Gallows.)
The walk from the Chamber to the Valley isn't a long one, and it is certainly a familiar one. We don't talk much, thereby busting the myth that all mares do is gab. I for one am not a fan of small talk unless I am purposely trying to irritate someone. I prefer being blunt. It's just so much faster and since most of the time I already know what someone is thinking, it's pointless to pretend.
Winter has arrived. I'm not excited. I don't usually hate the cold but everything makes me doubly grumpy because I will soon be sporting a small planet for a stomach. It's impossible to physically tell at the moment, but there's something about a mare's scent that changes when she's knocked up so I won't be surprised if my pregnancy is no secret.
Won't Kush be surprised to be a big brother at his age?
I catch sight of Demian, looking a bit haggard and worse for wear in the year that has passed. (I've been meaning to track him down since he became king, of course, but the flurry of a new reign isn't usually the time for serious discussions.) I lead Straia and Everdeen towards the stallion, and nicker a greeting.
I should get points for being fucking pleasant.
"Demian. You know Everdeen, I've been told. And this is Straia, Queen of the Chamber." Which, of course, he already knows. But I suppose protocol ought to be observed. "I believe she's interested in joining together with us for a bit of fun."
I grin wickedly, imagining where this conversation could lead. I trust Demian to indulge in this opportunity. After all, he's doing an all right job, our usurper king.
Although, granted, when has a ruler of the Valley not been an usurper? Rarely, I would think. I attained the throne from the edict of my brother and my successor received the throne in the same way, but such ascensions are rare. I've seen in some kingdoms that thrones are passed down through families but that would never work here. We are entirely too independent and volatile. No one should reign by virtue of blood.
But no matter what anyone thinks, I don't dislike Demian. I admire his initiative and I don't want his throne. Not, unless, the Valley believes it should be mine. For now it is the winged jaguar boy's.
Still, we can't have him thinking the natives are complacent, can we?
G A L L O W S We must all hang together or, assuredly, we shall all hang separately.
09-26-2015, 10:09 PM (This post was last modified: 09-26-2015, 10:10 PM by demian.)
you say I'm crazy, but I think I'm freaking amazing.
Being a ruler had it's cons just as much as it had it's pros. The constant chores required to keep a kingdom running smoothly led to many nights of little to no sleep. So much work had gone into bringing new life into the valley, and even though it was taking time, results were beginning to show themselves. Though these results were what kept him stuck within the valleys borders, still unable to make the visits to the kingdoms he wanted or even felt he needed to.
You could say it was his understanding of this that caused the surprise within him when he looked towards Gallows as she called to him and he noticed who had followed the two mares home. His eyes first found the once queen before he caught sight of Everdeen and then finally Straia, the Raven Queen of The Chamber. Part of his surprise came from Gallow's pleasant nature... But before he had the chance to cheekily ask if he had a fever she already was off to the races and making introductions. It was almost hard not to like her for her to the point nature though.
"I do know her, yes." He smiles warmly at Everdeen and then catches her eye. "Hello Everdeen, welcome home..." Nodding slightly in welcome, he glanced towards Gallows, "The both of you." Finally done with his own pleasantries he turned and caught Straia's gaze before speaking evenly. "Hello Straia, and welcome to The Valley. I trust your travels went smoothly?" Like Gallows he understood it was probably best to follow diplomatic protocol for the time being... That was, until her suggestion of fun was brought to his attention.
A small but amused smirk teased at the corner of his lips and chuckling slightly he caught Straia's gaze once more. "Is that why you're here then? In search of a bit of chaotic fun?" Rolling his shoulders slowly he steps towards the trio, keeping his gaze on the brown and white queen. "What are your ideas of 'fun' Straia?" Like her his attention had been caught the moment words of 'fun' and Gallows chuckling had filled the air. Like everyone else, the jaguar king was bored. A little bit of chaotic activity had been just what he had been looking for.
She had been in Demian’s place some number of years ago. She’d lost track, but she remembers her time as the Queen of Ash and Ruin so terribly well. Remembers how her father barely showed his face while Straia slaved to rebuild a kingdom that had been burnt to the ground - both in activity and quite literally. Remembers Eight taking the Valley throne and remembers seeing her chance to take the Chamber. The kingdom was hers, and had been for years really, she just needed to remove the King that stood in her way of making the Chamber great.
The kingdom flourished now, and she found herself constantly busy. Less trips to the field, and less kingdom visits (though she still did the important ones). Typically, everyone came to them now though, cowering on the border as if the Chamber was likely to kill them where they stood. But even the Chamber, for all the terrible things the rest of Beqanna thought about it, stuck to diplomatic protocol. They didn’t steal or hurt ambassadors that posed no threat.
Though she was beginning to think they should start hitting the stupid ones.
The other mares don’t waste time with too much small talk, and they find the King quickly. And Gallows, bless her soul (because Straia has always liked being straight to the point) brings up fun. And the King warms up rather quickly to that notion. Good. She had her doubts before. Still does, but less so.
“Our travels were fine. Luckily, we are close neighbors.” Mostly because with the two Valley mares she couldn’t fly like she usually does. But the walk was short and pleasant with her mostly silent companions. “To be accurate, I’m in search of an ally in that fun. The Chamber has no problem creating it, but really, two heads are always better than one.” She says, because it is true. The Chamber already had half of Beqanna running scared and the rest on edge. The Valley could share in that reputation, if they wanted.
“Haven’t you heard?” she asks, though not rudely. It’s a rude question, certainly, but there’s that hint of mischief in her voice that makes it clear she doesn’t mean it that way. “We’ve already burned half the Gates and taken their Queen. But they were small fish. Together, I think we could take on bigger fish.” The Amazons, particularly if they didn’t return Erebor. The Deserts, just because their magicians pissed her off. Or hell, they could burn the Tundra for all she cared, just because it would be terribly wonderful to be remembered for burning the land of ice. She still wanted to give Kushiel that joy. But truthfully, she didn’t care, so long as Beqanna what they were dealing with.
I swish my tail impatiently. Talking is less and less my forte. It's hard to believe but I was the model of diplomacy in older days. I think immortality has ruined me for small talk. I am incapable of not saying exactly what I think.
I am, however, completely capable of restraining my actions until the appropriate time.
And this. This is becoming the appropriate time.
“If we're going to go fishing, and we really should change that to a when, it ought to be quickly. The Gates is weak but sometimes idiots jump on the cause of the lesser man and call it chivalry. Striking quickly before our target has time to prepare would give us the advantage.
Unfortunately, I don't know if we can catch Lagertha sleeping. Still, the Amazons are always full of themselves and definitely need a wake up call. Warrior women, indeed. As if that makes them special. I dismiss the Tundra mentally. The ice makes the stallions frozen in time. They are rarely populated by more than two or three active members. Attacking them would be like blowing up an anthill. Overkill.
“The Deserts might be a good choice, but I think raiding them would only put the jungle on high alert. We don't want the fight coming to us if we can help it. Better their lands burn than ours.” I pause, glancing over at my daughter exploring the Valley. “And on that note perhaps you would be interested in hosting your, hm, extended guests and young ones behind the wall. The last thing we need is a counterattack or a rescue party while our fighters are busy.”
Not that we would completely empty the kingdoms. We'd hardly need that kind of force. But we would certainly be open for attack if there were mostly children and captives left at home.
Did I check this out with Demian first? Who me? No, not at all. But I think he'll agree.
In the end, I will leave the final decision up to Straia and Demian. I've said my piece and now fire runs through my veins. I wonder if Kushiel feels like this when he is burning the world.
G A L L O W S We must all hang together or, assuredly, we shall all hang separately.
